Demons
by Shaynezo
Summary: It started when she was six and ended when was sixteen. Eleven years of horrific child abuse, eleven years of torture and isolation. Spencer Hastings has a long road of recovery before her, and the only person who can help her is one step away from the edge of darkness herself. Spencer Hastings/Hanna Marin. Spanna. Not for the faint of heart.
1. Chapter 1

Hello everyone! I know, I'm awful for submitting a new multi-chapter story when I have so many I need to update. I promise, I will get to those, but I got this idea for a fic in my head and it wouldn't leave me alone. Sooo, I had to write it. However, while this is a multiple-chapter story, it will only be a few chapters long. I was considering just uploading it as a one-shot, but then it would have been extremely long.

_**Trigger Warning: This story contains mentions of severe child abuse, self-harm and multiple suicide attempts. Character deaths.**_

In other words, this story will be very dark and agonizingly heartbreaking. It does not have a happy ending. This story is sort of similarto _Chains, _for those of you who have read that.

It will be told in first person from Hanna's point of view. Emily/Aria are just a little side story. If you know me, you know I almost always (okay, always) have to have the four girls paired up together in my stories. :P

Enjoy the heartbreak!

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I really hate how hard it is to hide scars and cuts. If it's too hot, you can't wear long sleeves or you'll get heat stampede or whatever it is. Makeup doesn't work well because it can be easily rubbed off. If you cut yourself on your wrists, you can wear a ton of bracelets, but that kind of looks suspicious, doesn't it?

I cut myself because it's the only thing that makes me feel alive. I believe that I have no other reason on this Earth other than to suffer and feel pain.

My name is Hanna Marin and I live a life of self-hatred. I don't really think anyone has a life worse than I.

In Rosewood, Pennsylvania, the sun always seem to shine, warming residents with its rays. The houses all look like they belong in a Better Homes & Garden magazine and the citizens are all gorgeous and model-worthy. Except for myself. I'm a stout duckling amongst a group of beautiful swans.

Manicured hedges whip pass me. Trees as tall as buildings past by in a blur. My mother and I are on our way to the local hospital. We were out at the mall when she received an emergency call, but I couldn't hear what it was about.

My mother is a children's psychiatrist, which means she deals with fucked up kids who use sex as a weapon or pump drugs into their veins just to make themselves feel worth while. She's very sharp and observant, yet she doesn't see how far her only daughter has fallen. Isn't that the definition of the word irony?

My mom pulls into her assigned parking spot at the hospital and practically leaps out of the car the second she's turned the engine off. Geez, if I did that she'd bitch at me for a day. Parents can be such hypocrites.

The hospital is alive and buzzing with chaos. Nurses rush around, doctors are talking to their patients and for some reason, there's a purse drive in the lobby. Are the patients supposed to trade in their colon bags for Kate Spade ripoffs?

We ride up the first set of elevators to the fourth floor - the psych ward. When I was little, I used to be afraid to visit my mom at work. I used to think that I would turn crazy just by being in the same room as someone who 'was nuts.' But that was when I was just a kid. I know better now, obviously. I'm with my mom at work more often than I would like to be (you go for a joyride while drunk _one _time and you're branded for life, God) and I've made a few friends in the past. I once befriended this woman who thought she was the mayor of some made-up town she'd created. I don't know what the disorder is called, but she would go from being herself to this mayor in two seconds flat. It was really bizarre.

Another time, when I was fourteen, I befriended this twelve-year-old boy who was in the hospital for a suicide attempt. The kids at his private school made fun of him for having a stutter for years and one night, he tried to down an entire bottle of sleeping pills. But his sister caught him (thankfully) and he had to stay at the hospital for eight weeks. He was a really sweet kid and his family ended up switching private schools. Last I heard, he had friends and did well in school.

When we pass the children's part of the psych ward that levels off into a narrow hallway, I know that this means there's trouble afoot. There are only two rooms down this hall: a wide observation room filled with toys, an easel and a TV. There are also little tables and books. Plastic chairs and rugs. Bright, colorful characters from Disney and Nickelodeon are plastered all over the walls. The carpet is a rainbow of blues, pinks, purples, greens and yellows. The room next to it is an actual patient room, but it only has a bed, a chair, a small bathroom and TV in it.

If you get taken down this hall - you're done for.

"Mom?"

"What, Hanna?"

"Why are we down here?"

Our heels click in unison on the tiled floor and she stops in front of the window of the observation room. Doctor Wells, one of my mom's closet friends and colleagues, stands in front of the window. The fingernails of his left hand (that seriously need to be cleaned, hasn't this dude ever heard of a manicurist?) tap anxiously against his clipboard. His other hand fiddles with that thing doctors use to listen to your heart - a telescope? - and he turns to my mom immediately.

"Dr. Marin, thank you for coming."

"It is of no trouble, Dr. Wells. Is what I've been told true? Did they-"

"Yes It's believed to be the worst child abuse case in the history of the state of Pennsylvania, given the conditions she was found in."

Holy shit, the second? Mom pulls Dr. Wells off to the side so they can talk privately and my eyes are drawn to the large window. At first, I don't see anything, just a wall-plaster of Hercules starting at me, but then I see her.

She's crouched under one of those little plastic tables, knees pulled up to her chest, with her arms wrapped protectively around them. She has long, knotty dark brown hair and she looks confused and terrified. The jeans she's wearing look like she hasn't taken them off in years and the green sweater she has on has more holes in it than the plot of an episode of _Glee._ She has bruises, dirt and scratch marks all over her face and hands, but underneath all of that, I can see her beauty. She's so skinny she could be a stick figure and I don't know why, but I start to feel this ache in my chest. It's weird. I raise a hand up to wave at her when she emerges out from under the desk. I couldn't see it before because of the shadows I guess, but she's chewing on a pen.

_Uh. Okay. _

"Mom?"

I twist my head around, but she and Dr. Wells are bent over a thick folder full of papers on what I assume to be are about that girl. I sigh and turn back to the window.

The girl inside has moved onto one of the plastic tables, the pen still in her mouth. Geez, she's going to get ink poisoning if it breaks.

I glance back over my shoulder to see if anyone's paying attention and then quietly slip inside the room. Somebody has to get that pen out of her mouth. When the doors shuts, the girl jumps, her head snapping up.

Whoops. I hadn't meant to scare her. She stares at me and a small whimper escapes the back of her throat. What am I supposed to say?

"...Your sweater is green and it's the middle of October. Green is more of a spring color," I pipe up. Well, that was intelligent. She only continues to gaze at me, chewing viciously on the pen.

"...It's..it's a nice green, though. It's a darker shade of forest green, so it could pass as a fall color, I guess." Jesus, why am I rambling?

Just then, she leaps from the table and her back collides with the wall behind her. My eyes widen in alarm and I rush to the window, but my mom and Dr. Wells are gone. What the hell? They just left me with this crazy chick and didn't even notice I was gone? I twist the handle of the doorknob, but it doesn't budge. Oh, fuck. That's right - it locks from the outside once it shuts.

I'm so screwed.

I nervously whip back around to see that she's sunk to the floor with her head bent down. She continues to chomp on the pen, loud and soft whimpers escaping from her throat.

Oh, son of a bitch.

I step closer to her. "Hey, hey, stop chewing on that! Do you want to get ink poisoning?"

I lunge for her and try to grab the pen out of her mouth. Wrong move - she starts to shriek very loudly and swats at me with her hands. Just as I grab on the free end of the pen, she opens her mouth and it snaps, exploding all over my sweater and hers. At first, I'm in shock, but it rapidly fades away to anger. My blue eyes fire up in a blaze.

"YOU'VE RUINED MY SWEATER. THIS IS CASHMERE AND YOU GOT INK ALL OVER IT. CASHMERE. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?"

Instead of answering me, she squeezes her eyes shut, cups her hands over her ears and starts to wail. No sooner does she do this, does the door fly open and my mom, Doctor Wells and two nurses rush in. My mom yanks me back, her eyes sharp with anger while Doctor Wells and the nurses try desperately to get the girl to calm down. But she only kicks at them and screams louder.

Jesus Christ, I think I broke her.

"WHAT DID YOU DO, HANNA?"

"I-" My arms flail helplessly to the shrieking girl. "She was chewing on a pen and I didn't want it to break in her mouth! You guys were gone so I -"

"So you just took it upon yourself to sneak into a room alone with a girl who is under severe medical care to help her? Do you know how dangerous this could have been for you both?"

I can barely hear myself think from the girl's wailing sounds and I shrug. "Whatever, Mom. We're fine. I'm sorry, okay? But you should be yelling at her! Because of that -" I point at her - "_freak, _my sweater is ruined!"

"Hanna Marin!" Her voice is clipped and I know she's pissed. "You will never say such a insensitive comment like that again, do you understand?"

"Whatever." I've only now just noticed that girl's loud shrieking noises have turned into soft sniffles. Dr. Wells and the nurses have moved away from her and she's curled up into a ball on the floor, with her face tucked into her knees. "What is wrong with her?"

My mom sighs. "Hanna, she has a name. It's Spencer Hastings. You need to stop being so inconsiderate of others. She's lived an extremely traumatic life until now, and I imagine she's very frightened and flummoxed."

Flu-what? My eyes sweep over to Spencer and I feel a tug of guilt in my chest. Goddamn it. I huff and cross my arms. "Hey, uh, I'm sorry, Spencer. I'm sorry for scaring you."

Spencer only lets out a choked sob and starts to crawl across the floor, towards a purple beanbag chair. I'm about to say something else when my mother asks me to leave with the nurses so she and Dr. Wells can start Spencer's therapy.

I sort of want to stay to see what will happen, but then again, it's not like I care about her. She's just some damaged girl whose parents used her as a punching bag. It's none of my concern what happens to her. Besides, I need to get my sweater to the dry cleaners as fast as I can.

I pause in the doorway and glance over my left shoulder. Spencer is now hiding _under _the beanbag chair instead of sitting on it, like a normal person would. Geez, what a little weirdo.

"Well, I...bye, Spencer. See you in a bit, Mom."

I walk out the door and follow the nurses down the hall. But just before I pass the observation room, I can't stop myself from peering in the window. My mom and Dr. Wells are sitting a few feet away from Spencer on tiny red and blue chairs. Both of them look concerned and I can see their lips moving. For a split second, I want to march back in there and yank Spencer out from under the beanbag chair and tell her to sit on it, not under it. Then, I remember my sweater and my anger at her rapidly returns.

So instead I turn on my heels and walk away with my head held high. I do not care about Spencer Hastings and I'll probably never see her again. I've got no problem with that.

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So, what did you guys think?

Please leave reviews. Reviews keep me motivated!


	2. Knot

=) Here is another chapter for the day! I hope you guys are enjoying the story so far.

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"She's _so _weird, you guys. Not only did she scream for, like, an hour, but she ruined my favorite cashmere sweater. The blue one."

"That was so cute!"

"It's not like you don't have a thousand other ones, Han."

It's the day after I met Spencer and I'm in my kitchen with my two best friends, Aria Montgomery and Emily Fields. I've been friends with them since we were five and I couldn't ask for better friends. We used to have a third friend in our circle, Alison DiLaurentis, but she's...gone. Let's just leave it at that. Anyway, Emily, Aria and I are from different social cliques and our personalities differ, but it's one of the things that makes us such great friends.

Aria is one people would call "strange." She doesn't comply to every social norm there is and likes to set her own path. She likes to wear skirts in leu of tops and knee-high socks that don't match. She wears headbands and feather earrings. Aria likes to paint and draw and she's got more creativity in one finger than I do in my whole body. She once went through an entire year with pink streaks in her hair. She's the epitome of unique.

Emily is a little more reserved than Aria. She's shy and incredibly sweet. She's the kind of girl who would climb a tree to get a kitten down and help out at soup kitchens. Emily's casual and is comfortable in just jeans and a sweater. She's on our swim team at school and I swear she's going to be in the Olympics someday. One thing about Emily, even though she's the kindest girl on the planet, if you do anything to mess with someone she cares about, she'll turn on you like a rabid dog. It's one of the many things I love about her.

It surprised me when Emily and Aria started dating. It's kind of funny because Aria used to date our _English _teacher, but he dumped her to move to Illinois to live with his ex-girlfriend whom he got pregnant in high school and a son he didn't know he had. Whatever. He sucked as a teacher, anyway and always made us read books.

Aria turned to Emily and I for comfort, but I'm the kind of person who...ah, - let's just say I don't really know how to sympathize that well - but Emily was there with open arms and a charming smile. They just...melted into each other and then they were dating and it just works really well for them.

"Hanna?"

I snap out of my thoughts to see my friends staring at me. Oops. "What?"

Emily exhales and pushes a lock of her raven-black hair out of her almond-shaped eyes. Aria says Emily's eyes are one of her favorite features. "I asked you how she ruined your sweater."

Oh. My eyes drop to the Formica table and Emily's chemistry book. We're supposed to be doing our homework, but I got sidetracked by filling the girls in about my Mom's newest patient. It's not like I'm going to do my homework, anyway. "She had a pen in her mouth and I tried to get it away from her. It exploded."

Aria starts to giggle but stops short at my heated glare. "Sorry. Why were you trying to get the pen away from her?"

I throw my hands up. "She was chewing on it! Mom and Dr. Wells were too busy reading her file or something. What was I supposed to do, let it break in her mouth?"

Emily reaches hand out and pushes a lock of Aria's brunette hair out of her eyes. "Instead you went and got a sweater ruined."

"Hey, I didn't do anything! It was her fault."

"You can't blame her. She didn't know any better."

"She's our age!"

"Hanna, she was isolated for years, right? She was abused. What do you expect?"

"I know that." _Everyone _knows that. Ever since Spencer was rescued yesterday, her story had been all over the news. Except the details of her rescue hadn't been released. All that the police would say was that an anonymous tip led them to Spencer's house for the final time.

Spencer's parents, Peter and Veronica Hastings, were extremely wealthy entrepreneurs. They worked from home and they lived in a freakin' mansion with perfectly trimmed hedges and a wonderful garden. Their house was miraculously spotless. Peter and Veronica were polite, so it was a shock to learn what monsters they were.

They kept Spencer in an underground room beneath their fucking basement, chained to a wall by her ankles. She slept on a pile of ratty old coats and didn't even have a blanket. Her bathroom was a little commode a few feet away from where she slept. There weren't any windows (not that they would have done any good) and only one door. It had six deadlock bolts on it.

The police said that when they found Spencer, she was trying to kill herself by wrapping her chain around her neck, but she was too weak to do any damage.

She was dirty and smelled awful. My Mom told me that the doctors informed her that Spencer screamed and screamed the whole way to the hospital. She was so distraught that they had to take her to the observation room to give he a chance to calm down before they could run any tests. When my Mom and I left yesterday, she told me that the only progress they'd made was getting Spencer to calm down long enough to get an IV into her. It had taken them six fucking hours just to accomplish that and I was so damn bored waiting to go home.

Not all of the details of Spencer's case had been released, obviously. No one knows exactly what she'd been through. The cops had been to Spencer's before because neighbors had often complained of loud noises and people shouting, but they never found anything. It makes me wonder how they found her this time.

Thinking about Spencer makes my stomach twists in odd knots.

"Hey, you guys?"

Aria looks up from writing little notes to Emily. They're always passing each other notes or little strips of paper that express their affection. "What's up?"

I roll my pen around between my fingers and tap it nervously against my blank notebook.

"...Nothing."

"Are you sure?" Emily asks, concern etching over her features.

"Yeah."

"So, did your mom say what she has to do to help Spencer?"

I shake my head. "She never tells me much of anything about her patients. Doctor-patient confidentiality or whatever it is."

As if saying her name as summoned her, my mom appears in the kitchen dressed in gray business-casual attire with her hair pulled back into a tight bun. She has a briefcase in one hand and a thermos of coffee in the other. Oh, God. She's wearing bright red heels. This isn't Oz and she isn't Dorothy. Red heels with a gray business dress suit? Seriously? Maybe I'm secretly the lost daughter of a Kardashian. One can only hope.

"All right, Hanna, let's go. Emily and Aria are going to have to leave."

"Mom! We're in the middle of doing homework!"

"Hanna, I have appointments at the hospital and you know you're still not allowed to be unsupervised."

"I won't be unsupervised! My friends will be with me. What do you think we're going to do, light up a bong and watch porn?"

"Hanna!" My mom uses her I-won't-tell-you-again voice and I groan, combing my fingers through my blond tresses.

"I guess you guys better go. I'll text you both later."

Aria and Emily quickly gather their belongings and rush out, murmuring goodbyes.

"Why do you always do that? You embarrass me in front of my friends constantly."

"You got yourself into this mess, Hanna, not I. Let's go."

I open my mouth to argue but then decide against it. It's bad enough that I can't be alone or even with my friends without an adult figure around, I don't want to get my phone taken away or anything. We head over to the hospital and straight to the observation room.

Geez. Spencer, again? Why can't she be reassigned to another psychiatrist? My mom pauses near the observation room to speak to a nurse, and I cautiously glance inside the room.

Today, Spencer has on a hospital gown. I think they must have sedated her and cleaned her up, because all the dirt she had on her yesterday is gone. Without the dirt, I can see how sickly pale she is and how many bruises she has. One of them nearly covers her entire neck.

She's staring down intensely at something on one of the little tables. Her cracked lips are turned downwards and her eyes are focused directly on whatever the object is. She looks...determined? Anxious?

"Hanna?"

My mom touches my shoulder and I almost jump out of my flats. God. "What?" I keep my eyes locked on Spencer. For whatever reason, it's hard to look away.

"I have to go with Nurse Evelyn to see about another patient for a few minutes. Will you be okay here by yourself?"

"Oh, um, yeah."

"Hanna, do _not _go into that room. Do I make myself clear?"

"Sure."

"I mean it, Hanna. Do not."

I tear my eyes away with a huff. "Okay! I get it."

The two women scuttle away and I sigh, leaning against the window. Spencer is gone and my eyebrows furrow. What the-? She was just right there.

**_Bang!_**

Spencer pops up out of nowhere, colliding with the window and I almost scream. She presses her palms flat against the window. Her eyes are dark and wild. I didn't notice it before, but her cheekbones are really hollow. She has scratches on her chin and her hair still looks a little greasy. Maybe they hadn't washed it?

I tentatively lift a hand up in a wave, a small smile on my lips. I guess I could be a little nicer to her.

Spencer cocks her head and her fingers move in a circular motion Did she just wave back to me?

I watch as Spencer slinks away from the window and once again, burrows herself under a beanbag chair. She's so small and frail that it completely devours her.

Goddamn it, not again. Can't she suffocate or something?

Glancing around to make sure no one is watching, I take a deep breath and glide inside the room. The door locks behind me and I nervously perch on the end of the first table I see.

"Spencer?"

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So, what do you guys think so far?

Please, please leave feedback. I thrive on your guys' reviews. :D


	3. Exposed

Hi, guys! =) So, here we are with another chapter. This chapter isn't much, but the story will soon get a lot darker. Again, this story, unfortunately, does not have a happy ending.

Thank you all for sticking with me. =) You guys encourage me and I'm so happy people enjoy my stories.

Off we go!

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There was a time when I was seven-years-old and my mother left me with the one of our neighbors when she was called into work. One of her patients had tried to kill another kid by bashing him over the head with a plastic lunch tray. I remember it being in the middle of the afternoon on a snowy day in December. My mom had dressed me in my hot pink sweatpants and a sweater to match. My hair was pulled back into two pigtails. I had wanted to stay with Emily or Aria, but my neighbor was the closest available person to watch me and my mother had to be at the hospital ASAP.

My neighbor's daughter was a little girl named Jessica who had big brown eyes and brown hair. She was a brat who was very bossy. The whole afternoon all she did was order me around and by the time my mom came to pick me up, I was crying. Obviously I didn't say with that particular neighbor anymore. Jessica made me feel small and vulnerable, and it's sort of how I feel now, here with Spencer.

Spencer is cowering underneath the beanbag chair. My knees keep knocking off the edge of the table, so I turn my body away. There's a bookcase across the room and I can spy some coloring books on the bottom shelf. Might as well do something to pass the time. I stand up, walk across the room and select a Disney Princesses coloring book and a box of Crayola crayons before turning to my seat. I flip to a random page and land on a black and white picture of Princess Ariel and Prince Eric.

"Huh. Didn't realize Eric was a princess."

I pick up a green crayon and start coloring in Ariel's fin. I'm only about halfway done when a movement catches my eye. Spencer's slowly wriggling over to me on her hands and knees. She stops directly in front of the table, her brown eyes wide. She has more scratches on her face than I noticed before. Her eyes have a haunted look to them. It's like she's dead and a shiver snakes up my spine.

"I...uh, hi, Spencer."

This is so awkward. Spencer's just _staring _at me and the knots in my stomach tighten. Her eyes drop down to the coloring book and back up to my face.

"Do...do you want this? Do you like to color?"

Spencer tilts her head to the side and a lock of her grimy hair falls in front of her face. A small part of me wants to reach out and tuck it back behind her ear. She doesn't answer me. The silence is killing me. Doesn't she know how to talk?

"Hey, why aren't you saying anything? Say something. _Do something. _You're like a little rag doll who - " the rest of my sentence catches in my throat. Spencer's thin, bony fingers are circling around my left wrist and she turns it over.

The sleeve of my sweater has slipped down and I don't know how long it's been like that. Spencer's eyes are hard and with her other hand, she runs her fingers over several faded, jagged scars. I swallow. The knots in my stomach are so tight it feels like they're going to burst at any second, and my heart is hammering against my ribcage.

"S-stop it. Let go," I squeak and I wince at how weak my voice sounds. Spencer's eyes meet mine and she suddenly drops my wrist and moves to the other side of the room, ducking behind another bookcase and out of sight.

I'm so flabbergasted I can't think of anything to say. Do I even say anything at all? Do I go check on her?

Before I can make up my mind, the door clicks behind me and I shoot to my feet, racing out of the room and nearly knocking over a nurse who's on her way in with a tray of food.

I have to talk to Aria and Emily. Now.

* * *

It takes me twenty minutes to get from the hospital to Aria's house. I would have arrived sooner if I could drive my own car, but no. I had to hail a fucking cab like some drunk bitch at a frat party. The only car parked in the Montgomery's driveway is Aria's. She must have taken Emily home. I knock on the door but she doesn't answer. "Aria, let me in!" I pound on the door for a few minutes to no avail. Damn it. I twist the doorknob curiously and it turns. Good thing she'd forgotten to lock it. I kick off my shoes and start up the stairs. Maybe Aria fell asleep. Or maybe she's in the shower.

"Aria?"

I push open her bedroom door and start to talk, but my words get caught in my throat.

Emily is in-between Aria's legs. Aria has legs resting on Emily's shoulders and Emily's head is moving in quick motions and Aria's panting, her back arching high off her bed.

I swallow but finally manage to find my voice. "Holy fuck!"

My voice startles them and Aria unlocks her legs from around Emily and she pulls her leg back. Emily scurries up the bed and throws their blanket around their naked bodies. I'd just witnessed my best friend eating out my other best friend. _Awkward. So damn awkward. _

"Hanna!" Aria hisses. "What the fuck? Don't you ever knock?"

"I- I'm sorry." My hand flies up to cover my eyes and I try not to laugh, but I can't help it. I've burst into giggles, my laughter bouncing off the walls of Aria's room.

"IT'S NOT FUNNY!"

Aria's pissed, which only amuses me more.

"So much anger in such a tiny thing," I snicker.

"_Hanna." _Emily's voice is quiet but stern. "What the hell do you want?"

"Aria! You've corrupted sweet Emily. That was rude."

I make my way further into the room with my hand still covering my eyes. I don't need to see anything else. I'm no stranger to seeing a girl naked, but it's weird to see your friends naked. It's sort of ironic that all three of us are gay, but whatever. When Emily came out, her mother threw a childish fit and tried to 'cure' her. Aria's parents didn't mind at all and all my mom told me that I'd "make some girl very happy one day." But parents are supposed to say things like that. I've never had an actual girlfriend before - just flings.

"Get out!" Aria snipes. "Get the hell out of my room so we can get dressed."

"How do you guys even have sex? I mean, Emily's to tall and you're so short. Do you use a booster seat?"

"_Hanna."_

"I'm just asking. Do you?"

"No, I don't need a fucking booster seat to screw my girlfriend."

I part my fingers to see Emily's buried her face in her hands. Aria is gently scratching her scalp, glaring at me heatedly. "Okay, okay. I'll get out. Hurry up and get dressed. No finishing, I need to talk to you guys. It's important."

I duck out into the hall as Aria tosses a book at me. It flies past me and I shut the door. _Man, she sure has a temper. _I can hear Aria and Emily scrambling around to get re-dressed, followed by hushed voices.

"-I'm going to kill her."

_Rude, Aria. What have I ever done to you?_

"-You can't kill Hana."

_There you go, Em. This is why you're my favorite._

_"-_Whatever. Hanna, you can come back in now!"

When I go back inside, Aria's at the head of her bed and Emily is at the foot. Aria has on a _Rosewood Sharks_ swimming t-shirt that obviously belongs to Emily. It's much too big on her. Emily's dressed in black shorts and a tank top. They look pissed. Not that I can blame them; I'd be pissed too if I was interrupted during sex.

"What did you need to talk about?"

I sit down in Aria's chair and cross my ankles together nervously. "Um, I went in Spencer's observation room again today. She saw my scars."

Emily's jaw drops and Aria tucks her legs under herself uncomfortably. It's a sensitive subject, I know. Aria and Emily found out by accident. I never meant for them to know that I self-harm.

"How?" Emily finally asks.

"Uh..." I try not to notice the hickey near Emily's collarbone and tear my eyes away to study Aria's bedroom floor. "I was in the observation room with her. I was coloring and..and she came over to me. My sleeve must have slipped down because..she grabbed onto my wrist."

Aria swallows. "Well, uh, I - you've stopped, right?"

"Yeah," I lie. What they don't know, won't hurt them.

Emily crawls up to Aria and wraps her arms around them. They're cute, but I would never tell them that. It kind of makes me jealous.

"Well, you should...be okay, right? I mean, it's not like Spencer will tell anyone. She hasn't said a word since she was rescued."

"Right. Not that I know of."

Emily gently scratches Aria's scalp, adding, "I still think you need to tell your mom."

"She has enough going on. She doesn't need - " My cell phone drowns out the rest of my sentence and I fish it out of my bag. My mom's face flashes on the screen. "Ah, shit." I sigh and answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hanna, we'll talk about your punishment for disappearing later. Right now, you need to get back to the hospital. It's an emergency."

My eyebrows knit together. "An...emergency? What's going on?"

"It's Spencer."

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So, thoughts?

What do you guys think happened with Spencer? More to come!

3


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